Monoland: Into the Gray Horizon

3. DIZZ

Her height was approximately the same as mine, which made her higher than the average girl, and me shorter than the average man; slim with short hair, which was also something that we had in common.

I would guess twenty-something years old, from a glance (though my guess was never something to be trusted when judging one's age). Attractive, though with a rebel in her - one who will push you away if you step too close. She wore a suit over her blouse, and low heels, with a postman's bag over her shoulder. A girl whose company you would surely enjoy, in a small cafe with three tables, a 'smoking permitted' rule and a cup of strong, black, bitter coffee.

In other words, not what one would expect when meeting 'Lady Death'.

I was quite sure she could see me, yet for some reason, she remained silent. Then I remembered, I had forgotten to respond - she had said hi, and was now awaiting the same courtesy in return.

In my fear, I tried to spit in her face. Well, I wanted to spit, but I had no saliva. Still, the expression on my face, the shape of my lips and the sound I made gave her an unequivocal understanding of what was my intention to do.

'Are you okay? What are you doing?'

'I'm trying to spit in your face, I think.'

'Why?' A questioning look crossed her face.

'I always said that when confronted by Death, I would spit in the face of it. Sorry.'

Imagine two hunters walking through the woods, who come across a bear; they kneel down, then, as the bear approaches, all of a sudden one of them stands tall and growls at the beast, to show the second hunter who is the strongest animal in the forest - the second would probably look at him the way she was looking at me now.

'Well, you can't spit, and I'm not Death. But thanks for the compliment.'

She smiled, and I suddenly thought she was pretty good-looking... for a dead girl, that is.

'And thanks again,' she told me.

'Did I say that out loud?'

'Don't worry about it. It's just your inner voice - you can't hide it from me.'

'Who are you? How did you get in?'

'I'm here to meet you - I will be your curator; call me Dizz. And I walked in through that door.' She pointed at the door with a thumb, over her shoulder.

''Curator'?' I realized at this point that I had probably started with the wrong questions; 'I am dead, right?'

'Yep. And you are doing pretty well if you ask me.' Frosty and with fortitude too - how fortunate for me.

'I doubt that. Is there a body on the floor?'

I pointed into the room - the last place I ever saw colour.

'Yep, that's you.'

I had spent so much time thinking about my condition, it felt strange to now hear it from someone else. After Dizz spoke them, the words thrust like a spear under my rib.

I knelt down, and my tutor knelt with me. She looked at me - right into my eyes - biting her lip, and she nodded. I knew she wanted to cheer me up.

'I don't know if it will help, but I know how newbies usually act and I must say you're doing better than the average.'

'I guess I'm just tired of being worried. Could you tell me what time it is? I have no idea how long I've been sitting here.'

'It's not that long. In the dyed hours it would be around an hour.'